Today: Another day that I am grateful that I’m not married to some moron. Or anyone.
So I drove to Long Island (8 hours or more in the car, depending on traffic) to visit my sister for the weekend. Oh, and her family, too I suppose. Actually, let’s be frank. I really came so that we (the sister & I) could go see a friend do one of his final performances in a Broadway show before it closes.
Of course when I got here, my sister was wandering around doing chores (like prepping tomorrow’s breakfast, cleaning up the kitchen, etc) while my brother-in-law sat around like a lump, fucking around on his computer. She explains that she did not have time to clean the bathroom and apologized if it smelled like pee, which it always does now because she has two boys living with her. Apparently neither the 4 year old NOR the 36 year old can effectively aim accurately into the toilet every time. Since I ordered her husband to stop sitting around like dead weight the LAST time I was here, I decided to just tell her it’s no big deal and I’ll just make sure not to go in there barefoot.
Cut to two or so hours later. Four year old was in bed, 36 year old was in bed, my sister was falling asleep on the couch…so I headed to the guest room to go to bed, which bro-ski got ready for me earlier in the evening.
In the bed: A small, plush white tiger. A paperclip.
Not in the bed: A top sheet.
Oh, Bro-ski! What to do with you?